


This Is How It Ends

by WillPJackson



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fix-it fic, HIV status, HIV treatment, M/M, fuck season 4, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24580207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillPJackson/pseuds/WillPJackson
Summary: After Justin returns from rehab, Clay learns they might have yet another obstacle to overcome.
Relationships: Justin Foley/Clay Jensen
Comments: 31
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck season 4. At first I was sad, but now I'm just angry. If you haven't seen season 4 yet, you should probably turn away now. But if you do, just know the show stays true to itself and really, it isn't fucking fair. I don't know how I managed to churn this out today, but I held it together because I realized--I needed this. I needed this more than anything (well, perhaps a better fate than THIS SHOW gave Justin).
> 
> If you're here too, for similar reasons, I'm so sorry. I hope this helps in some way. I'm grieving right now, I know it seems stupid to say with everything else going on, but I'm gonna carry Justin with me for the rest of my life. I love him so much, and he deserves so much better. I suppose this is what I get for devoting the past two years of my creative life to him.
> 
> I have a series with this ship, so if you haven't read it, some things might not make sense, but this is far in the future from that series, and if I even tackle this bullshit with that universe I've established, this might be how I do it.
> 
> I'm so sorry. This is raw and unedited and just--something I needed to get out. But I promise you, Justin Foley will live on. I'll make damn sure of that.

Clay was surprised at how obsessive Jess was being with the decorations. He thought she did a bang-up job with the banner, and getting everything into place. Granted, Zach was late, but everyone else was there, and Justin wouldn’t want such a big hoopla, anyway, with his return. To think, Jess called _him,_ Clay, _cray-Clay._

Admittedly, he was _Clay-zy_ with Justin coming home. It had been a long, lonely thirty days, but he’d promised Justin he’d keep his shit together until he got back, and that he, Justin, _was coming back._ Clay understood why he had kept this from him. He really did—and he still regretted how he reacted the first time, to this day—but he tried to set aside those thoughts in his head as he sat on the couch waiting.

Clay smiled to himself. Scott, beside him, noticed, and patted his shoulder.

“Thinking of how you’re gonna _welcome_ him back later tonight?” Scott chirped.

Tony had obviously overhead and Clay caught his smirk as he, himself, tried not to smile. Clay shrugged, nonchalant. _“Tonight?_ Really? _”_ Scott laughed.

Really, he was smiling because—this was the easy part. Riding with him to the rehab center, dropping him off, hugging him goodbye— _that_ was hard; one of the hardest things he’d had to do yet. This time, Clay felt it—things were gonna finally be good all around.

“Okay, okay, car!” Jess cried out. “Positions!

Everyone hopped up, lining up below the banner. Clay nearly held his breath as he waited, wrapping his arms around Tony and Scott on either side of him. When the door finally opened, everyone shouted, only to see Zach stroll through the door as he threw his arms up and cheered along.

“What the hell?” Clay exclaimed.

“You’re late!” Alex chided.

Zach waved them off as Jess stormed up to him. _“Shit_ , you _guys_ are making _way_ too big a deal out of this. Justin wouldn’t want all this.”

“Are you drunk?” Jess demanded.

Zach spread his hands. “I pre-gamed.”

She pushed him towards the bathroom. “Well, get some fucking mouthwash and rinse. I can smell it all the way from here.”

Clay looked towards Ani, who shrugged back at him.

After that false alarm, everyone sat back down. As Clay waited on the couch, he couldn’t help letting his leg shake a little. His mom had left hours ago to pick Justin up. What was the hold up?

“He’s being fashionably late, as usual,” Ani offered.

Clay nodded, forcing a brief smile. He couldn’t help but think of the last time his mom had to pick up Justin like this, almost, way back when during Hannah’s wake. They’d all been through hell since then. Is that why it felt like a lifetime ago?

After a while, Clay pulled out his phone ready to text his mom when the door opened again and Jess cheered.

“Justin!”

She was closer to the door, so she beat Clay to him. Regardless, he couldn’t help grinning as he watched her practically leap into Justin’s arm as his mom laughed behind him and the love of his life burst out laughing as he embraced her back.

“Surprise!” Scott attempted, along with Alex, half-heartedly.

“We missed our moment,” Tony remarked.

Clay didn’t wait for Jess to finish her hug. He leapt into the fray, throwing himself towards them both and springing his arms around them. They hugged for quite a while, and at first, Justin laughed, but then seemed to realize neither Jess or Clay were gonna out-hug one another.

“You guys,” Justin laughed, “you’re crushing me!”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet!” Zach exclaimed, and his massive form enveloped all three of them.

When his dad entered with a tower of pizza boxes, Clay and the others finally relented.

“Welcome home,” Clay said, finally getting a good look at his boyfriend.

Justin nodded, smiling back at him. “It’s good to be back.”

Frankly, it was the best he’d looked in a long time; and yet, something seemed…off. Clay thought he was imagining it, but there was something tugging at his smiles, something that kept his grins from truly shaping his eyes like they used to. He chalked it up to the emotions of all; it was probably a bittersweet day for him, objectively speaking.

As Clay sat with him, with everyone around them, and as they all talked, he decided it was a good thing—this new, thoughtful Justin. He was better, and this was what progress was. Change…can be good.

~ ~ ~

When everyone had gone, Clay explained to Justin their makeshift plans for Christmas.

“I know it—might be a few days late, but, who cares?” Clay assured.

Justin smiled. “Okay, yeah, I’m—I’m down.”

Clay stood by the kitchen counter, and steered his gaze towards Justin as he sat on his bed. When silence fell between them, and as Justin looked back at him, Clay tried to sober his expression as he stepped slowly towards his boyfriend.

“But—it looks like,” he began, coyly, “since you’ve been so, _so_ good—you’re gonna get one of your presents—early.”

He came to a stop and stood before Justin, whose grin gradually widened as he stared back at Clay.

“Really?” Justin asked.

“You bet your ass, Foley,” Clay uttered, and he shoved Justin against the bed before leaping atop him, letting their bodies and lips collide.

_Fuck_ , did Clay miss him. His lips tasted of pizza and Sprite but he’d never felt better against him and he was gonna make up for all this lost time, for _damn_ sure. He ran his hands across Justin’s chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his lungs as he inhaled his hot, sweet breath, then reached behind his boyfriend’s head with one hand to bring him even closer while his other hand steered south to liberate that too-long caged beast.

Justin grunted and moaned in sympathy with him, but Clay felt something he wasn’t quite expecting… Pressure, _against_ his, Clay’s, shoulders and chest… Pushing him _back_.

“Clay,” Justin breathed between kisses.

Ravenous, Clay couldn’t bring himself to stop. He needed to shush those lips—get them to behave—but for the first time in literally forever, Justin persisted, and more firmly pushed him back.

“Clay, wait.”

Rejection stung in his stomach as Clay pulled up slightly. “What’s wrong?” Justin had never hesitated with their sexy time like this before… At least, not when he, Clay, had initiated it.

Something flashed across Justin’s face again—that thing, again, Clay had seen when he’d gotten back. Was it remorse? Fear? It was gone too quick to know for sure.

“I, I,” Justin stammered, not meeting his eyes, even though Clay was mere inches from his face. “I’m—I’m _so_ tired, right now. I, I just wanna—”

“You don’t have to do _anything_ ,” Clay assured, smirking. “I’ve been craving your dick all— _fucking—day_. So I’m gonna do all the work. Don’t worry.”

Justin burst out with a laugh. “Fuck, Clay, I—”

He reached down to undo the button and zipper of Justin’s jeans, but his boyfriend grasped both of his hands.

“Clay, I—please, could we just, just cuddle, for a bit? I’m so beat.”

Justin finally met his eyes, and when Clay saw them, he felt—instantly—shitty. _As usual_ , how could he, Clay, be so insensitive? This past month must’ve been really, really intense for Justin. He shouldn’t have expected him to be raring to go right off the bat.

Sitting up, and shifting beside him, Clay said, “Of course. Sorry, I—I didn’t mean—”

Immediately, Justin reached for his face and held it, gently, thumbing his cheek. “Don’t apologize,” he said with a grin, “I—I fucking missed you too, believe me.” He glanced towards the ceiling. “They, uh, they said it might take me a little while to, to get back in the saddle, you—you know? With some of the treatment they’d given me.” He chuckled.

Clay nodded. _Idiot._ “No, yeah, yeah. Of course.”

They shifted upwards in the bed, and Clay brought Justin close to him, wrapping his arms around him once more as he willed his erection to go away.

“I’m—so fucking glad you’re back,” Clay breathed.

“Yeah,” Justin uttered into his chest. “Me too.”

This was enough. He had everything he needed, again. They might have a little ways yet to go, but Clay was certain—above all else—they’d get through this, too. Whatever might come their way… _Fuck it,_ _fucking bring it._ With Justin by his side, he could take on the world. They could take on anything.

As long as they had each other, that was all that mattered.

~ ~ ~

Clay awoke first on their makeshift Christmas Day. Justin was snoring softly beside him, his arm draped against Clay’s chest, and he couldn’t help but be amazed again at how much he’d missed _this._

Justin had insisted they’d use Clay’s bed for the night, even though Clay didn’t have the heart to tell him that’d he spent the majority of his nights in Justin’s, but whatever. Maybe they’d be able to drop all pretense soon and just push the beds together, _finally_. New Year’s _was_ just around the corner, after all.

As the morning light gradually crept through the windows, Clay spent the time relishing the sight of his amazing, wonderful, beautiful, strong boyfriend beside him, drooling peacefully and all. Unsurprisingly, it was the first sound sleep he’d had again—the first night again in a while he could say that he’d slept peacefully through the night; no dreams.

When it neared seven, their agreed-upon rendezvous time, Clay gently began jostling his boyfriend awake, who inhaled sharply and began grunting as he stirred.

“Morning, sleepy,” Clay cooed, which made Justin grin. “Wow, _me_ , waking up before you? On Christmas Day? It’s a miracle!”

Justin stretched and groaned, then turned onto his side as he blinked at Clay. “Is Santa all done?”

“I believe so.”

“Good—‘cause I’m not walkin’ in on anything, today.”

Clay laughed. Such were the challenges of having just the bathrooms split between them as so. “I’ll take the house, this morning, then. But be quick! We have presents!”

Turning on the lights before he left, Clay hopped towards the house to find his parents already up in the living room.

“Oh, honey,” his mom said, “Justin’s up, too, right?”

Clay nodded. “Don’t worry, he’s up,” he said, continuing up the stairs. “Nature calls, though!”

In truth, Christmas was not such a big deal for them. Last year, they’d done a tree, but no presents—in an effort to be more eco-friendly for the year—but thankfully, this year, his mom insisted they pull out all the stops, and Clay had agreed. Thanksgiving may definitely have been a downer, but fucking Christmas was gonna be better. Much better.

When Clay was back downstairs, Justin was inside, already, gazing at the tree, and decorations.

“Wow,” he was saying, “you, you guys really—didn’t have to go all out like this.”

“What are you saying?” his dad said. “Of course we had to!”

“Sweetheart, we have _so much_ to celebrate this year,” his mom continued, gently grasping Justin’s face.

Clay patted Justin’s shoulder as he came up beside him. “Come on, presents first. Then we can eat. I’m starving!”

They gathered in a circle on the floor before the tree. His mom drew the first present, which was definitely clothing-boxed shape, and passed it to his dad. She drew the next one for Justin, and then for Clay, while his dad drew one for his mom.

Justin opened his to find a pair of giraffe-patterned socks, and he burst out laughing. “Gigi-inspired?” he asked.

His mom grinned. “Something like that.”

His dad opened what turned out to be the first-edition Hemingway he'd gotten him, and his father seemed genuinely moved as he regarded Clay.

“Where on earth did you get this?”

Clay shrugged. “Ani—helped me snag it. At a bargain, I assure you.”

“It’s priceless!” His dad insisted.

His mom opened her present to find a matching yellow hat and scarf. She turned to her husband, “You shouldn’t have splurged like this.”

His dad raised his hand towards his mouth towards Clay and Justin and spoke, in a stage-whisper, “Women tend to speak in opposites,” and the three of them laughed.

When they got through most of the presents, his mom pulled what looked to be the last one from beneath the tree—another long, flat box—before handing it to Justin.

Justin seemed hesitant. “Still, more?” He exclaimed. “It—it doesn’t seem fair. I, I didn’t get you anything, any of you.”

“Love,” his mom insisted, _“you_ back here with us—is all the gift we need.”

Justin nodded, accepting the present as his eyes seemed to glint. Clay reached to rub his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Really, this—is from all of us.”

Slowly, Justin began to tear the wrapping. Once the inner box was revealed, he lifted off the cover to reveal the framed portrait they’d taken Thanksgiving Day of all four of them in front of the house. Their first—official—family portrait.

Justin was nodded rapidly, clearly trying to stem the tears. Clay reached over to embrace him right as a quiet sob escaped his boyfriend.

“It’s beautiful,” Justin cried, “it’s perfect. Thank you.”

His mom reached over to rub Justin’s arm. “Just like you,” she said, “just like you make us.”

Clay let go of him, knowing he’d just make his boyfriend cry harder the longer he held him, and Justin laughed as he rubbed his eyes.

“Come on,” his dad said, standing. “Let’s find a place to put it.”

Justin brought the portrait to the mantel, placing it in the center which had previously—conveniently—been cleared. They gathered breakfast from the kitchen, plates of pancakes and fruit and waffles, before settling into the den where they gathered before the TV to watch _It’s a Wonderful Life._

As Clay sat on the floor beside Justin, he said, “Please—tell me you’ve seen this.” When Justin merely looked at him sheepishly in return, Clay laughed, and leaned his head against Justin’s shoulder. “Bring on the waterworks.”

“No fair!” Justin said.

His dad patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I cry every time I see it.”

~ ~ ~

After spending most the rest of the day with movies, and having a grand feast of ham with all the trimmings, Clay and Justin settled back in the carriage house. They watched a few more episodes of _American Dad!_ before taking turns getting ready for bed, and Clay settled into Justin’s bed to make the decision for them for the night, to which Justin grinned when he came out of the bathroom.

He turned off the lights before settling in with Clay, and they pecked each other on the lips.

“Thank you,” Justin uttered, “for today. For, for doing this—for me.”

Clay caressed the side of his boyfriend’s face. “Of course. Seriously, don’t thank me—it was all my mom’s idea. But—you deserve it, anyway.”

Nuzzling their noses together, Clay went on, “New Year, new possibilities. We got everything in front of us, now. I—I know, things aren’t totally clear, yet, but—with you back, things are gonna be right, again. I can feel it.”

Justin gazed at him. “Yeah—yeah, definitely.”

Clay grinned. “Well, you sure seem confident.”

Exhaling a laugh, his boyfriend said, “No, yeah, I—I am. I just—you know, I, I did a lot of thinking. I really think I learned a lot about myself, these past few weeks. One of those things is…”

When he trailed off, Justin forced another laugh. “I, I dunno. I dunno what I’m saying.”

“Hey, come on,” Clay insisted, squeezing his shoulder. “New Year’s resolution—no secrets. I, I know, you may have felt like you can’t always come to me—but that shit ends _now._ No more secrets between us. There’s nothing you can’t come to me with. Nothing you can’t tell me. I’ll always be here for you—I promise you.”

His eyes shimmering in the moonlight, Justin nodded, and forced a smile. “Yeah, I—I know. I, I guess what I was trying to say is—you, you can’t take things for granted. That’s all.”

“Very true. Very wise.” He kissed Justin’s cheek. “I’ve missed you here, calling me out on my bullshit.”

Justin laughed.

~ ~ ~

Clay awoke. He was cold. Yet, the covers were still over him…

And the bed was empty.

He shot up and looked quickly throughout the room and through the darkness.

“Justin?”

Silence.

Clay got out of the bed and headed towards the bathroom, but even though the door was open, he looked in it anyway to confirm that it was empty. As panic started to take hold, he peered through the window at the house but couldn’t see any lights on.

Chancing it, anyway, he shot out of the carriage house and across the yard, ignoring the cold, to head inside through the kitchen. He opened the door carefully, but quickly stepped inside as the wind pierced his pajamas. The house was totally dark, but as he took a few steps, Clay thought he might have…heard something.

Was that…crying?

Flipping on the lamp in the living room, Clay saw Justin spring up on the couch in the den as he looked towards the light.

“Justin?”

Clay sprang through the dining room and was in the den in a flash while Justin seemed to frantically be rubbing his eyes and palming his cheeks.

“Clay, I—”

He knelt on the floor before Justin, grasping his knee. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, “what’s—what’s wrong?”

Justin could only seem to bury his palms into his eyes as a sob tore through him. Clay got up on the couch beside his boyfriend and immediately brought him close, though he seemed to resist, slightly.

“Did, did you have a bad dream, or something?” Clay pressed.

Justin was shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he wept, “I’m—so sorry…”

It hurt Clay to hear him say that again, but he continued to try to rub his boyfriend’s arm and shoulder to console him.

“What is it?” Clay said. “You can tell me—what’s wrong?”

Justin coughed. “You’re—you’re gonna fucking hate me. You’re gonna hate me, again.”

Shaking his head, Clay prompted him upwards, and tried to hold him up as he tried to peer through his boyfriend’s tears.

“Listen to me, babe, I—I could _never_ hate you. I never hated you. I _love_ you. _So_ much.” He cradled Justin’s face between his hands. “Just tell me—whatever it is, I _promise_ you, we’ll get through this.”

When Justin gradually seemed to settle, Clay slowly let go of him in order to take his hand.

“When I, uh,” Justin began, clearing his throat, “I had my tests, a—a few physicals, getting ready for my release, you know, the doctor called me in again at the last minute. That’s—that’s why I was late, c-coming back, yesterday. The other day.”

“Yeah.”

Sniffling, Justin continued, “The, the doctor—I figured, she was just gonna give me my prescriptions—you know?—but she started talking about my bloodwork, and some ‘irregularities’ or some shit like that and she, she started writing out these referrals, or referral, I guess, for—for more testing.

“I told her, ‘I don’t understand. I’ve already been tested,’ but she said, given my—my history, and based on the timing of my tests, it’s—it’s possible that, that things were just too early to, to catch them at that point.”

Clay gazed at Justin, and he was listening with bated breath—but an all-too-familiar tightness started coiling up again in his stomach and his chest.

“She, she said,” Justin went on, “it’s possible that, either it was just too early, or—or I fucked up somehow more recently with my doses since then and I—I…”

Justin sobbed for a moment, and rubbed the tears from his eyes, before looking steadily back at Clay. “It’s—it’s possible—I, I—I might be—infected. My bloodwork was—was inconclusive, so—but the doctor was troubled by my white cell count, or whatever, but she—she flat out said, I, I need to get tested.”

He gazed down at his hand inside of Clay’s, and slowly let go before he looked back up at Clay. “More importantly—you, you need to get tested.”

Clay managed a laugh. “So, so—what? I’ll—we’ll get tested! We’ve been safe, but what’s a little STI—”

_“No,”_ Justin hissed, and he eyed Clay seriously, “she—she wasn’t trying to say it. She wasn’t trying to freak me out, but—but I knew. I knew _exactly_ what she was trying to say.”

Hanging his head for a moment, he gazed out towards the window.

“I’ve got HIV. And I’m going to die.”

Clay—couldn’t breathe. He honestly felt his heart stop as chills iced through his skin and deep into his core. When Justin looked back at him, Clay couldn’t say anything, and his boyfriend broke down once more.

Coming to his senses, Clay brought him close again, and he tried to shush his sobs. “Hey, hey, we—we don’t know that. We don’t know anything for sure, yet.”

But Justin was inconsolable, and Clay could not stop himself, either, from weeping.

~ ~ ~

Clay eventually managed to bring Justin back to the carriage house, and back to bed. While Justin may have exhausted himself back to sleep, Clay could only stare into the darkness as he held his boyfriend beside him.

After he was certain Justin was asleep, Clay slipped out of bed and went straight for his computer. He needed... Information. Sources. He’d been blindsided but—the war was _far_ from over.

He spent all night, and well into dawn pouring over and scrolling through anything and everything he could find—research and message boards and drugs and treatment. Clay’s eyes might have been bleeding by the time the sun came up, but whereas he’d been shocked earlier—he’d never felt more resolve about anything in his entire life.

When Justin began to stir, Clay shot up from his laptop and sprang for the bed. He didn’t want Justin to wake up alone, and there unfortunately was a split second where he seemed to be confused before Clay could get there in time.

“Hey,” Clay cooed, taking Justin’s shoulder, “hey, I’m here.”

Justin gazed at him, remorse dragging his beautiful features. “Have you been up all night?”

Clay shook his head. “We’re gonna beat this,” he said, taking Justin’s hand, “we’re fucking beating this. HIV—is _not_ a death sentence. With the treatment, and medication—you, you could live a fucking _normal_ life. You are _not_ gonna die.”

When Justin’s cheeks quivered, he said, “We’re all gonna die, Clay.”

Clay kissed him, desperately, and rested their foreheads together. “You are _not_ gonna die from _this.”_

~ ~ ~

Despite Justin’s wishes, Clay brought up the subject immediately at breakfast. Predictably, they both looked shocked, but for once, it seemed to Clay that his dad had hid it better than his mom had.

“I—I need to get tested, for sure,” Justin said, “to know where I am, exactly. And, so does Clay.”

When neither of his parents seemed to be able to speak, Clay exclaimed, furious, “For fuck’s sake—mom, dad,” he slammed the table, “ _say something!”_

“Clay,” Justin chided.

“No, honey,” his mom began, “he’s right—I’m, I’m sorry. I—this is a shock, that’s all.”

“I thought you’d been tested before,” his dad said, “right?”

“It was either too soon after the exposure,” Justin answered, “or—or during my more recent—stumble.”

After holding it together for so long, Justin suddenly broke out into a sob as Clay and his mom both reached out to take his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried.

“Honey,” his mom insisted, “you do not apologize for this. This could happen—to anyone.”

“We love you,” Clay added, “we’re gonna help you beat this.”

His dad agreed, “We’re gonna get you everything you need.”

Managing to stem the tears, Justin looked back at him and between his parents. “Thank you,” he uttered. “Thank you.”

“This isn’t the end,” Clay finished. “This _isn’t_ how it ends.”

~ ~ ~

His mom was able to book them an emergency appointment that day, and they all drove with Justin to the clinic. They showed up to find a mostly empty waiting room, probably due to the holiday, and after checking in, Justin was called in for his test soon afterwards while Clay and his parents waited in the lobby for him.

The taking of the test itself was brief, and Justin returned to them in short order, telling them they had about twenty or thirty minutes. Soon afterwards, the doctor called for Clay, who got up and followed the doctor.

Clay fucking hated needles, but—he kept his mouth shut. Thankfully, the doctor seemed to understand, and he droned on about race cars or a racing movie or some nonsense as he drew his blood and he was bandaged and back in the lobby before he knew it.

As they waited, they said very little. Clay held Justin’s hand, while Justin’s knee shook the whole time.

The doctor eventually returned, and asked for Justin.

“Do you wish to speak privately?” the man asked.

He glanced around at Clay, and his parents, before looking back at the doctor. “No,” Justin replied, “they’re—my family. I want them with me.”

The doctor looked at Clay. “Do you wish to speak alone?”

“No.”

“Come with me.”

Clay held onto Justin’s shoulder as they stood and entered through into the back. After they sat, the doctor got right to it.

The test indicated Justin was positive for HIV.

Clay was negative.

Justin almost looked as if he might break, but he held steady as Clay took his hand. The doctor went on to explain to Justin all that he needed to do, his referral options, and his treatment. He turned to Clay, stating that since he didn’t know his exposure window, he’d need to return for follow-up tests for the next two to three months.

“The lab will return more thorough results,” the doctor went on, “after the new year. But you should book an appointment to begin antiretroviral therapy immediately.”

His mom took all of the information from the doctor and they left the clinic in haste. As his dad drove, his mom was already out on her phone searching through their options and calling different providers. Before they were even home, Justin had an appointment booked for early the very next week—right after New Year’s.

“See?” Clay remarked, smiling at Justin. “All in a day’s work.”

For the first time that day, Justin managed to smile back at him.

~ ~ ~

“Can we use your bed, tonight?”

Clay agreed, and welcomed Justin into his arms as they settled in for the night.

“I just—wanted a change of scenery,” Justin went on, and Clay laughed.

“Oh yeah, way o’er yonder,” Clay quipped.

Burying his face into Clay’s shoulder, Justin breathed, “I’m so— _fucking_ relieved—I didn’t give it to you.”

“Hey, hey—”

“I never would’ve forgiven myself if I did this to you, too.”

“come on, now—“

“I’ll understand if—if we don’t—do anything again. Ever again. If you never want me again. But please—if we could still—like this—”

“Stop,” Clay interrupted, drawing his boyfriend up to look at him. “This—does _not_ change how I feel about you.” He gently thumbed Justin’s cheek. “It does _not_ change—how much I still want you.”

He glanced down at Justin’s crotch, and reached to grip him—firmly. Justin gasped, and almost right away, Clay felt his boyfriend’s manhood stiffening. “Or that monster of yours, too.”

After Justin gave an airy laugh, Clay let go of him, brought their hips and crotches together, and began grinding against him.

“I fucking want you—so much,” Clay uttered.

Grunting, Justin pulled away, but he continued to gaze at Clay. “Seriously, Clay— _how—_ could you still want me? How could you still even be— _attracted—_ to me?”

In response, Clay flipped Justin onto his back and pressed his wrists against the bed, high above his head. As he gazed down at Justin, who gaped back at him in luscious surprise, Clay growled, “I fucking want you, I said. Nothing’s changed.”

He leaned in to smash their lips together, coaxing and prodding his boyfriend’s mouth with all he had. Justin’s tongue tried to evade him, but Clay was quicker, and managed to stumble him as he brought their hardening erections together through their sweatpants and started to grind against him once more.

“Want—you,” Clay breathed as they made out. “Need—you…”

Justin managed to separate their mouths. “Clay,” he uttered.

“Let me jack you off,” Clay interrupted, and reached straight down to grab his boyfriend’s throbbing erection straight through the seam of those troublesome sweatpants. “Perfectly safe. No come eating, tonight,” Clay went on, “but—I need to make you come, again.”

“Oh, fuck,” Justin sighed.

Sliding down his boyfriend’s bottoms, and pulling up his shirt, Clay made quick work of stroking Justin’s potent erection within his fist. He worked him, at first, mostly for his own enjoyment—to imagine it inside of his mouth instead as he resumed kissing Justin—and to savor the feeling of its substantial warmth and presence as he imagined it filling him up completely.

As Justin continued to moan, Clay eventually switched his grip, then parted briefly to spit into his hand to really lube it up and finish him off completely. When Justin’s breathing quickened, and his grunts grew louder, Clay stroked him all out, squeezing and pumping his boyfriend’s amazing cock for all its worth until it shuddered—Justin crying out into his mouth—and exploded in heat and love inside of his fist. Clay let up, and drew back slightly to let his boyfriend breathe, and carefully, slowly, drew out the last of the orgasm the best way he knew how as Justin continued to moan.

Before Clay could let go, Justin shot his hand into his sweatpants in return, and gripped Clay’s slick erection before he could say anything. He didn’t need to get off, too, but— _fuck_ —Justin was merciless, and after Justin exposed his erection, Clay was no match for That Grip and he pretty much cried out and came in two seconds, his come spilling onto Justin’s stomach to congeal with his own.

As Justin grinned up at him, Clay remarked, “Bastard,” before he laughed. “All that work you try to build up my stamina and—then you pull that shit?”

Chuckling, Justin replied, “I knew you were pent up, babe. You can’t go a whole month without jacking off. It’s not healthy.”

Clay smirked. “It was a week,” he retorted. When Justin eyed the amount of product on his stomach, Clay admitted, “Okay, a week and a half.”

He leaned in to kiss Justin, but his boyfriend put up his free hand between them. “Wash your hands, Jensen.” Clay chuckled.

“Yes, sir,” he grunted, pulling off of Justin and making for the bathroom.

After cleaning himself off, Clay returned to the bed to see Justin with his hands behind his head and smiling at him as he watched him settle back into bed. Clay nestled beside Justin, and buried his face into the side of his boyfriend’s neck.

“I fucking love you, Justin,” he uttered, shutting his eyes. “More than life itself.”

His boyfriend squeezed him firmly. “Hey,” Justin admonished, “don’t—love anything, more than life itself.”

“Too late,” Clay uttered, and turned his focus to the sound of his boyfriend’s steady breaths.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't anything new in this chapter; it's just a splitting off of the work into two parts with the shift in perspectives and a fixing of major typos. It's taken me a lot to even properly read through this again, so please know that if I don't end up responding to comments very soon it's because it still even hurts to see gifs of Justin and Clay across my tumblr dash. All I would even blubber is a THANK YOU and can barely keep from becoming emotional when I think of how the show treated Justin, still. BUT--I still appreciate all comments. It's just going to take a while for me to respond in any meaningful way. And the splitting into two chapters was also mainly a way get this note out there, because once something is Out There, I almost never go back and change anything in a significant way.
> 
> I know not everyone prefers the romantic version of Clay and Justin, so I appreciate you still giving this work a chance. I honestly don't know how to write them in just a strictly platonic sense--I've spent so long dwelling on them in this way, as my OTP. I think one of the ways I've managed to stay motivated (and to keep sane) and to write as much as I have for these two is to remind myself, above all, I'm writing this for me. However, with season 4, I think this is going to shift, slightly. I think, going forward, I'll still write for me, but I'm also going to keep writing for Justin. Because
> 
> JUSTIN FOLEY
> 
> DESERVED
> 
> BETTER

Justin told Jess first, after the New Year. He didn’t want to do it at school, so he texted her, and met her at her house. Ani was there, too, and it ended up becoming two birds with one stone. Clay had said they didn’t need to tell anyone else if he didn’t want to, but after seeing the Jensens rally behind him, Justin couldn’t bear to keep this from the rest of the group.

Jess was shocked, predictably. Ani was stoic, and quick to ask questions. He told them he’d already had his first treatment, and that his prognosis was good. He could have afforded to get tested and to get treatment earlier, but it hadn’t progressed far enough to be Very Bad News, or Bad News, at all, really.

There was a moment when Jess looked almost tearful, but after Justin explained, she sobered up quickly, and hugged Justin. She asked about Clay, and Justin confirmed he was negative, but he was due in for another test in a few weeks.

Justin told Alex and Tyler next, mainly because they happened to be together when it happened. He was making the rounds and wanted to get this shit out of the way before school started back up again. They seemed to take it a lot better, the both of them, and Tyler seemed to be more _in-the-know_ , somehow, with that stuff.

“My uncle is positive, too,” Tyler remarked.

He told Zach and Charlie next, but it didn’t seem to phase Zach at all, which annoyed him, but bit his tongue. Charlie seemed to overcompensate to make up for it, and started crying.

“Dude,” Justin spat, “stop—fucking crying. I’m not dying!”

Charlie apologized, but he didn’t seem to be able to stem the tears. “I mean—this—this _had_ to have been a shock for you, hadn’t it?”

Justin shrugged. “Yeah, it—it was, but—it could be a lot worse.”

Tony and Caleb were next, and they were the most level-headed but sympathetic, by far.

“You got this,” Tony assured.

Caleb patted his back. “Being positive—it’s just one more aspect to add to your eclectic qualifications.”

Justin chuckled. “I’m not planning on wearing a button around or anything like that.”

“No, but,” Caleb said, “you could really help with reducing the stigma if you’re up front about this. College admissions boards will eat that shit up!”

When it came to Scott, he—was probably a mix of all of the above. Reed was totally silent at first, but then out of the blue, he started almost bawling.

“Jesus, Scott,” Justin said, sitting beside him. “I’m not fucking dying or anything!”

Scott quickly shook his head. “No, I know,” he said, sniffling. He quickly rubbed his eyes, and managed to get a grip. “My bad, man—I, I didn’t think I’d react like that.” He sniffled again, and cleared his throat. “How long have you known?”

After Justin explained the rest, Scott patted his back, then squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. I’m real sorry.”

“I got lucky, dude. You don’t have to be sorry. We caught this shit early. Early enough, at least.”

Scott nodded. “Yeah, I—you’re right. You’re totally right. I guess,” he gazed at Justin, “I’m—I’m really fucking rooting for you, man. I’ve—I’ve never told you this but—you’re a fucking inspiration, Justin. You really are.”

Taken aback, Justin managed a laugh. “Jesus, I—I didn’t know you were hard for me, too.”

Bursting out with a laugh, Scott quipped, “You and Clay sure you’re not looking for a third? It’d be so much easier… Monty, I swear, sometimes…”

Justin patted his back in return. “Well, you’re the only one to keep that asshole in line so far, so…”

Once he’d made his rounds, he thought about anyone else he might want to tell as he drove back to the Jensens’ house. Someone—another person—stuck out in his mind. Someone he couldn’t help reflect on (he was pretty much forced, to, really) while he was in rehab.

His mom?

_Fuck that._

He parked at home, walking around the house to the backyard. He found Clay working at his desk, and the boy looked up and lit up with a smile.

“How’d it all go?”

Justin came around and hugged him from behind while the boy sat. He nuzzled his nose against his boyfriend’s hairline and savored his lovely scent.

“Good. Tiring, but good.”

“No surprises?”

“Well—Charlie’s a crybaby, but we knew that.”

Clay laughed. “He’s a lot like you, you know.”

“Oh ho!” Justin laughed, and Clay stood up to face him head on as they started to kiss.

“You’re just a big softie,” his boyfriend cooed.

They rested their foreheads together.

“Guilty as charged,” Justin admitted.

He was soft for Clay, all right. Well, hard most other times, but—soft, really, too. He’d do anything for Clay, and for so long, he thought so much about how he’d easily die for him.

But now—more than anything—he wanted to live. For himself. For Clay. And he was so fucking glad he could.

He was so fucking grateful to still have that chance.

~ ~ ~

Through it all, they managed to save prom. What a crazy fucking semester. Justin lay back against the couch beside Clay, simply existing together. They’d been doing a lot of that, lately.

“Tomorrow, right?” Clay remarked.

“I get my results back,” Justin finished.

“And we’ll find out you’re undetectable.”

“It’s not a certainty.”

“But you’re on track,” Clay assured, squeezing his thigh.

They were quiet for another moment. Then, Clay went on, “You know, we didn’t have to wait this long. We can be safe. You know I’ve been taking PrEP.”

That had long been a point of contention between them. It was tough, but Justin wouldn’t budge. “We have to be absolutely certain. No risks.”

“There’s always gonna be a risk, depending on how you look at it.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, prom is tomorrow,” Clay uttered, leaning in to kiss him. “I want you to fuck my brains out on our prom night, Foley.”

Justin grinned. “In due time, babe. In due time.”

~ ~ ~

Justin’s results came back. He opened the envelop with Clay before him.

He was undetectable. Essentially negative.

Justin met Clay’s gaze, and they both grinned.

Prom was a blast.

Scott and Monty were king and king.

And Justin fucked Clay in their bed like the boy was a virgin all over again. And again.

Before the boy paid him back in due kind before the night was over.

~ ~ ~

Graduation. Justin—honestly—thought he’d never see the day. Jessica and Clay gave their awesome speeches, and he threw up his cap in the air with everyone else.

They mingled, and they had a thing to do—Hannah’s tapes. They buried it together—Justin, Clay, Jess, Zach, Ryan, Courtney, Sheri, Tyler, Alex, and Scott. End of an era. End of high school—fuck all.

Justin lingered with Clay along that spot on the road as they watched the sunset.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Clay started.

“Uh oh,” Justin said, which made the boy smile.

“I know we—both have a place to go in the fall. I know you worked—really, really hard. But—hear me out.”

Justin smiled. “Babe, I thought we talked about this.”

“Listen,” Clay went on, undeterred. “I—we—have been in school—our whole fucking lives. I know we said we were gonna make the most of summer together but—I want more. I want more!”

Chuckling, Justin said, “What do you mean?”

Clay took his hand. “I wanna defer. You should, too. We—both can defer, they’ll be waiting for us in a year, and,” the boy raised his fists, shouting, “and we _can see this whole fucking world!”_

Justin couldn’t stop laughing. “Clay—have you gone completely Clay-cray?”

The boy threw apart his hands. “I have. Yes. I wanna spend my life with you, I wanna see the world with you—so let’s fucking see it together, and get some actual life experience because—fuck all that was Liberty High. College is just gonna be more of the same, with less hand-holding, more adulting, and we got so much time now to do that shit. The rest of our lives!”

Clay took Justin’s hands. “What do you say? What do you say?”

Justin was astonished. He—truly—did not see this coming. “Clay, your—folks—”

“Are completely on board.” He shrugged, “Well, my dad, honestly, more so than Mom, but, whatever—if you agree, they’ve got us covered. Just say the word.” He started to hop. “Please please please _please…”_

Justin burst out laughing once more. “Fuck—okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Okay!”

Clay leapt at him to kiss him, then turned towards the city before them.

_“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”_ the boy screamed, raising Justin’s hand with his.

Grinning, Justin also let out, with all his being, _“FUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuck!”_

They turned back towards each other, and gazed at one another as they caught their breaths.

“I fucking love you, Justin,” Clay breathed.

“I fucking love you, too, Clay,” Justin echoed.

They started down the mountain, hand-in-hand, back towards the car.

All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry.


End file.
